


Toys R Us

by McKay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-03 01:59:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10957317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McKay/pseuds/McKay
Summary: Snape finds Zonko's of more interest than he suspected.





	Toys R Us

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2002. Response to SSFF tricky pairing #51 Snape/Zonko.

A tiny bell over the door chimed merrily as Snape pushed it open, announcing his entrance to the shop, and Snape hunched his shoulders, his lip curling in a silent snarl. He didn't want to be here. He'd pointedly avoided ever stepping foot in this particular establishment before, and it galled him to have to break his unspoken vow never to acknowledge its existence by means of his presence inside it.

Zonko's.

The mere name was enough to set his teeth on edge. His dislike of the place and its wares stemmed from his own student days, when he had been the target of many a Zonko joke novelty item. Sirius Black and James Potter had been nearly as enamoured of playing pranks as Fred and George Weasley, only without the insanely fertile imaginative ability of those tricksome twins -- thank God.

No, they had relied primarily on Zonko's products to wreak havoc with Snape's life, sowing a deep hatred in him for practical jokes in general, and Zonko's shop and everything in it in particular. Since beginning to teach at Hogwarts, he had amassed an entire drawerful of confiscated items from Zonko's, taken from students whom he had caught trying to play a trick on someone else. On one rare occasion, that someone else had been him, and he had no doubt that the emotional scars from the fallout of that ill-considered idea still lingered on the soul of the unfortunate Gryffindor who had made the attempt.

He had to force his reluctant feet to carry him forward to the counter, past rows of brightly coloured gadgets, all designed to be eye-catching, but his eyes remained firmly uncaught. There was nothing here of any interest to him, and the sooner he attended to his business and could depart, the happier he would be.

The young woman behind the counter glanced up, then did a double-take, her eyes growing wide and round as she gaped at him in what was obviously recognition. Snape glared at her as he approached, silently daring her to say something -- anything -- about him being there. She did look familiar...

"P-professor Snape!"

A former student... He cast his mind back, and eventually a name arose from the depths of his memory: Harriet Ainsley, Hufflepuff, left three years prior.

"Miss Ainsley, is it?" he asked, coldly polite, and she nodded, blushing, her hands shifting restlessly on the countertop.

"Yes, sir. Is... is there something I can help you with?"

"I want a word with the proprietor of this shop."

Relief flooded Harriet Ainsley's face, and, mumbling a promise to be right back, she scurried away. As he waited, Snape refused to look around, choosing instead to fix his gaze on the portrait of the founder, Ambrose Zonko according to the plaque affixed to the frame, which hung on the wall behind the counter. Zonko was a portly gentleman, with thick white hair, a bulbous nose, and twinkly eyes that reminded Snape uncomfortably of Dumbledore. He looked a jolly, jovial man, and Snape hated him on sight for being so damned cheerful about bringing misery to the lives of so many.

"I understand you wanted to speak with me?"

Snape glanced in the direction of this new, masculine voice, and found himself looking not at the man from the portrait, but someone far younger. Other than the same twinkly blue-green eyes, the man greeting him with a warm smile and an out-stretched hand bore no resemblance to Ambrose Zonko whatsoever. Harriet was close behind, still watching Snape with mild alarm.

Prompted by manners drummed into him from an early age, Snape shook the young man's hand firmly -- and _then_ glared at him. "I want to speak to the owner. To Zonko."

"That's me," the young man replied pleasantly. "Alexander Zonko, Xander to my friends. How can I help you...?" He trailed off, a clear cue for Snape to introduce himself, which he did grudgingly.

"Professor Severus Snape."

To his surprise, Alexander Zonko's face lit up with recognition, and no little amusement. "Ah, the infamous Professor Snape! I've heard a lot about you." Zonko paused, giving him what, if aimed at anyone but Snape, would seem like an appraising once-over. "I expected you to be... less attractive."

Momentarily stunned -- he'd heard many words used in description of him, but "attractive" was rarely, if ever, one of them -- Snape blinked, then blurted, "I expected you to be older," before he could censor himself.

"I'm Zonko Junior. I took over when Dad retired a couple of years ago." Alexander slipped his hands into his trouser pockets and regarded Snape with a friendly smile, and Snape found himself scrutinising the young man with more interest than he was comfortable with.

Alexander Zonko was perhaps an inch or two shorter than Snape himself, broad-shouldered and slender, wearing a tailor-made suit that fit him to perfection. His light brown hair was short and seemed to have a tendency to curl in a way that made him look touseled, even when he wasn't, and his mouth seemed perpetually curved in a smile, or a near-smile. That his bottom lip was full and rosy pink and seemed to be made expressly to be sucked and nibbled was, of course, something that Snape didn't dwell on.

"I have a complaint," Snape announced gruffly, forcing thoughts of Zonko and his delectable lip aside in favour of taking care of business so he could escape this horrid place as soon as possible.

"Oh?" Zonko stepped up to the counter, his brow furrowed with concern. "Did one of our products not work correctly?"

"I wouldn't know," Snape replied acidly. "Your products are hardly the kind I would use in general, and this in particular..." He allowed his Sneer of Utter Disgust to say what mere words couldn't express.

"I see." Zonko regarded him coolly. "What product would that be?"

Reaching into his robes, Snape curled his fingers around the item he had confiscated -- from two of his own Slytherins, no less! -- when he had found the boy and his girlfriend in a compromising situation at the top of the Astronomy Tower after midnight. Snape had given them both detention, and, as much as he resented his pupils giving him reason to do it, he had taken points from Slytherin. He had also taken the item they had been playing with, and upon examination, he had discovered the Zonko product label.

"This," he snapped, pulling out the item and slapping it on the counter to show Zonko the offending item: a vivid lime green dildo, complete with raised veins along the shaft. "I discovered this in the possession of two fifteen year old Hogwarts pupils, and I demand to know why you're selling items of this nature to underage patrons!"

Zonko's eyebrows lifted to his hairline, and he shook his head vehemently. "I didn't. I don't! We do carry a line of adult novelty items, but they're in a back room under protection. I don't sell anything from that room to minors."

"Then how do you explain this?" Snape pushed the dildo toward him, sneering.

"I don't know." Zonko picked it up and examined it, as if checking to see it really did come from his shop. "Perhaps an older classmate bought it for them, or an older sibling. But there is no possible way they could have even seen it, much less bought it themselves." Glancing up, he caught Snape's look of disbelief, and he gestured for Snape to follow him down a narrow corridor leading to the back of the shop. "Harriet, watch the front. Come, Professor Snape, I'll show you."

Zonko led him to a sturdy wood door with a brass plaque reading "The Adult Collection" fixed on it. "This door is spell-protected so that minors are unable to open it."

Striding to the door, Snape grasped the knob, turned it, and flung the door open, then turned to Zonko with a triumphant look. "That proves nothing. They could ask an adult to let them in."

Smiling, Zonko shook his head. "Even if they ask an adult to open it for them, they can't cross the threshold, either. I can provide a demonstration, if you require proof."

But Snape barely heard his offer; he had glanced into the room and become transfixed by the sight before his eyes. The entire room was decorated in plush, dark crimson carpets, drapes, and tapestries, giving it the look of a harem or a bordello, and every wall was lined with floor to ceiling shelves and mounted displays, offering a variety of sexual aides, the sheer number of which was nearly overwhelming. There were dildos and vibrators, handcuffs both metal and befurred, collars, corsets, whips, eggs, beads, plugs, oils, cock rings, nipple clamps, chains -- it was a sexual smorgasbord such as Snape had never before seen in his life.

Stepping into the room, Zonko lifted a questioning eyebrow at Snape, his smile widening into a grin. "See something you fancy?"

Snapping out of his reverie, Snape looked away; he did see something -- or rather someone -- he fancied, but admitting it was out of the question.

"A private demonstration, perhaps? Consider it my apology for one of my products falling into the wrong hands. Come inside and close the door."

Before his brain was quite aware that he intended to accept the invitation, his feet had already moved him inside, and his hands had shut the door. Zonko murmured a quick spell-lock, and Snape realised he was alone in a room full of sex toys with a luscious young man who was looking at him the way a cat might look at a bowl of sweet, rich cream.

And then said luscious young man unknotted his tie and began unbuttoning his shirt. Strolling with hypnotic animal grace to a small table, he picked up a jar labelled "honey powder" and a brush which seemed to be made of feathers. Snape watched, feeling unable to move and scarcely able to breathe as Alexander unscrewed the jar lid and swirled the brush in the fine, light tan powder within -- then swiped it in broad strokes on his own bare chest, leaving the pale, smooth skin with a sheen of powder that gleamed golden.

"It's edible, too," Alexander purred, and Snape took that as the invitation it obviously was meant to be.

Hours later, Snape staggered out of the shop, laden with two bags stuffed full of merchandise, soreness in places that hadn't been sore in years, and the promise of more private demonstrations any time he wanted.

Perhaps, he thought muzzily, Zonko's wasn't such a bad place after all...

 

-end-


End file.
